


May Your Past Be the Sound (Of Your Feet Upon the Ground)

by gunboots



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms, Thor (2011)
Genre: College AU, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of past drug abuse, Modern AU, Multi, Sibling Incest, Tony Stark and his crazy little life, no powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:56:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunboots/pseuds/gunboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mostly true story of how Tony Stark lost his fortune, got a job, and found love with a brilliant doctor in the process.</p><p>Sure said doctor has rage issues, and Tony's best friend did show up with a gunshot wound in his apartment, but hey, <em><strong>semantics.</strong></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will Die For My Own Sins (Thanks A Lot)

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I have to add many disclaimers, about the representation of dissociative identity disorder, anger issues, and how to tend gunshot wounds, to name a few. Please take all these elements with a grain of salt, I based the gunshot-tending scene on the LOSERS film, so safe to say, please don't try this at home. I'm also intentionally vague on the Hulk since well, this story is told from Tony's p.o.v. and he's not as intimately familiar with it. 
> 
> Quick thanks to my beta [Auctorial](http://archiveofourown.org/users/auctorial) for helping tweak a few details/whipping my grammar into shape, even with the oncoming rush of Comic con. Also thanks to [Binni](http://archiveofourown.org/users/binni/pseuds/binni) for saving this from being thrown out, and helping me shape this from a stream of rambling into a LEGIT story. Lastly, totally taking back what I earlier stated I have to amend that fan/dreamcasting Amadeus Cho, of Hulk fanboy supreme would have to be Osric Chau. Joe Manganiello is so obviously Herc, I cannot even believe I didn't notice it earlier. (I'm more than fairly positive they already have photosets comparing the two actors on tumblr, because they're FREAKING PERFECT for them.) 
> 
> Any weird formatting issues are entirely my fault as my computer seems to just HATE Ao3 and lose all formatting in transition, just fyi.

Some people would've taken the news that they've been explicitly cut off from all of their family assets with a lot less grace than Anthony Edward Stark. Tony hasn't really _met_ any of those people, but he still thinks that him flipping his father off in front of the family lawyers and storming out yelling insults about Howard Stark's parenting skills wasn't **THAT** theatric. Maybe the insults over the shoulder weren't called for, but neither was just suddenly deciding to cut him off completely as some sort of lab study to see if he'd sink or swim without his family fortune. Tony hadn't expected everyone else to know that apparently Daddy dearest had been planning this for some time, either. Complete with someone waiting outside the building with a suitcase and an old clunker that Tony had restored when he'd been in the middle of puberty. 

It was only when he was driving away from what pretty much constituted his life, did it hit Tony why he was so angry to the point of throwing his cell phone out the window and vowing to make it tough as hell for the old man. It wasn’t about the money (because he's still Tony Stark, and if he was that pissed off enough, he could easily nab a paid internship at Hammertech for chrissake). It was the fact he'd just been disowned as some kind of social experiment that really got to Tony. He had no idea what the control group, variables, or even the expected outcome was supposed to be. Only that he'd woken up on a thousand dollar mattress, with a hundred thousand dollar roof over his head, and that night he was setting up shop in a seedy part of town and watching the cracks in the ceiling and wondering if he’d survive its collapse.

So understandably he's not exactly in the mood to meet his neighbors two streets away from spotlight on the 10 pm news report. What Tony needs is solitude, time to rethink his position in life, time to process the situation, predict what outcomes will appear from whatever kind of shitty life experiment this is turning into, and how to get a favorable result. He's still an engineer at the end of the day, and he's still got enough pissed off adrenaline in him to shut out everything around him to focus on the problem at hand.

Considering all that, Tony would like to petition further that if anything his disastrous first meeting with Bruce Banner actually went off pretty well.

-

When Tony recounts the story, it becomes a story of how Bruce and Tony together fought off a pack of nefarious muggers using nothing but a look, well-plotted strategic trajectories of cans and rocks nearby, and years of forced bodyguard lessons.

To be fair, it’s not embellishing...much. And he and Bruce did manage to fend off some unfortunate thugs who noticed Tony moving some books from his car that night. Bruce, who just happened to be coming home from work at the time, jumped in to help. What Tony _doesn’t_ mention is that Bruce incapacitated their would-be attackers by himself and the rest of the time was Tony trying to knock Bruce out after he kind of went mental. Thank god for long range stun guns and Krav Maga classes when he was nine.

-

"Oh god, did I hurt you?" is the first thing Bruce Banner ever says to him when he regains consciousness, after Tony dragged him into the building and onto the elevator. Unfortunately the elevator's one of those that was once used for transporting whatever their former warehouse sublet used to make between floors, so it creaks like it's about to give out and reenact the Tower of Terror, complete with drops seven stories down. Somewhere between floors three and four, Bruce actually regain enough consciousness to speak.

"Not really, you're sadly slow for a powerhouse," is all that comes out of Tony's mouth instead of what he wants to say, which is, "actually yeah, thanks asshole" or "are you on drugs" or even "are you crazy because you just called yourself the **_hulk_** and beat the shit out of three methed out gangbangers". 

The sad thing is, Tony might as well have said all of those things because the look on Bruce's already worn and tired face says he's heard it all before. 

"I'm sorry we had to meet like this. I take it you're the new tenant taking over Parker's old place." Tony offers his hand out to help the other guy up, but he shies away from the contact, almost like he can’t bring himself to touch Tony. 

Instead, he pushes himself up from the floor and leans against the peeling paint of the wall. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"Nah, I'm fine--the three guys that tried to mug us though, they're currently lying around the fire escape outside somewhere," Tony observes, noting how even in the small space of the elevator, Bruce is leaning back, like he's not sure he should even be in the same room as him. Because Tony Stark is fucking insane (it comes with the territory of being both a genius and a billionaire-- well former billionaire) and kind of a little high on adrenaline, all he does is chalk up the reaction to 'interesting' and doesn't press. "Can I get a name from my would be knight in brown loafers?"

Self-consciously tugging on his Goodwill burlap-looking blazer, Bruce Banner gives a self-defeating shrug.

"You sure you want to know that? After what you just saw?" He keeps darting to look over at the elevator buttons, as if expecting them to suddenly announce they've arrived on the final floor so he can escape. Or expecting Tony to at least.

Tony Stark has made plenty of bad decisions, but because he's kind of seeing it as hereditary (thanks a lot, **DAD** ) he just shrugs back and offers his hand. Again.

"I've just been kicked out of my family's immense fortune and onto my ass less than 36 hours ago--I'm actually not really sure of anything right now, but I'm fairly positive I'd like to know your name." Technically Bruce's keycard ID for the local university, along with his demure picture, is on display on his front blazer pocket, but Tony's always been a fan of making an impression. He holds out his hand, and decides that he likes Bruce's DNA tie pattern and the fact that he literally saw him throw someone double his size over his head into a dumpster enough to introduce himself, "Tony Stark, I was debating on doing a fuck you to my father and changing my last name a few hours ago, but I figure it'll piss him off more this way. And you are?"

Bruce blinks at him owlishly for a few minutes, and Tony laughs because _seriously?_ He's pretty sure he heard Bruce yell " ** _PUNY MUGGER_** " when he punched one of the guys downstairs in the face. 

"Tony Stark as in **THE** Tony Stark?" he repeats, eyes widening in recognition skeptically as if Tony's just about to suddenly take off his face as some part of elaborate mask. "What are you--"

"My father's a douchebag. You know how it is in families with big personalities and even bigger egos," Tony waves his hand idly, "but I'm tired of talking about me for now-- what I would really like is your name. And don't say you don't have one, because I am being polite and not reading your name tag, but I can clearly see letters in use."

"Bruce Banner," Bruce finally says, taking Tony’s hand dubiously, but his lips tilt upwards just slightly, so Tony's going to count that as a win. "I live on the sixth floor."

"What a coincidence, so do I, how about that? We're neighbors already." Tony's pushy, everyone knows that, and hell, he's made his peace with it long ago, but he's still somewhat surprised when Bruce lets go of his hand, and reaches for his glasses, scrubbing at his face for a few seconds and shaking his head.

"It'd probably be for the best if you just forget about me, as clichéd as that sounds. I'm not exactly the perfect example of an ideal tenant or, person really." Tony's mouth is open and he's ready to debate that because well, he's not sure why but he's going to do it anyway--only the elevator doors open and Bruce all but runs out, leaving Tony and his books alone.

-

He doesn't see Bruce for a few days after that, but to be fair he doesn't really notice because he's busy settling in and the whole figuring out how to live on his drastically reduced stipend (thank god for his deep need to prove himself since he was a toddler so he’s got enough of a separate savings account to last him till he can find a job, which will hopefully be happening in two months, otherwise he’s fucked), while still attending school. 

Tony’s kind of admittedly not even really paying attention to himself; it’s only when he’s taking the stairs and he missteps and almost falls to his inevitable death at the bottom that he takes a moment to judge his life and his choices. Mainly because someone caught him by the arm and is holding him back from falling forward, and that someone is also humming that god awful boy band song from the radio.

“Please let me fall, I’d rather face the sweet embrace of death than that shitty chorus clearly written by forty year old pedophiles.” Tony’s pretty sure he’s half joking, but whoever’s behind him seems to take him seriously enough and does in fact let go with a “Sure thing!” —thankfully he breaks his fall on a couple coming up the stairs. 

“Jesus Christ, Wilson! Are you fucking insane?” someone shouts from under him and ow, Tony’s ears are kind of ringing, and he can’t see past the cloth in front of him. He’s forcibly yanked upright again and straightens himself to see the rather strong people who caught him. He’s pleasantly surprised to find a woman with vibrant red hair and a rather nice pantsuit, along with a guy in shades with arm muscles that should just be labeled as _**criminal**_. The woman is scowling at someone over his shoulder and oh right, the crazy fuck who dropped him on them (and not in the fun way).

“Oh come on Nattie baby, I knew you all were coming up here anyways! Kid here would’ve been **FINE**.” Tony turns around to find a guy with so much scarring on his face, that Tony had to take a few seconds to make peace with the fact that it even was a _human_ face. 

“Handsome stud, aren’t I?” The guy winks and laughs, slapping Tony on the back like he wasn’t about to send him to his death or at the very least paralysis. “Welcome to the neighborhood, new kid. Let that be a lesson to you--don’t insult a man’s taste in music or face the loss of your limbs. Got a new target today, kids, see you later. Keep those hot bods tight and right and in the light you sexy bitches, you!” 

Tony actually has to applaud this guy’s balls, because then he just saunters past, slaps both the woman’s and man’s asses, and just continues his merry way down the stairs. 

“Fucking Wade,” the woman grumbles, and it’s not exactly fond, but not exactly as pissed off as Tony expected it to be, Tony gives both of them a questioning look. Bruce did not mention someone like that living here at all. 

Tony’s about to do the whole introduction and _hey, wasn’t that just crazy?_ Scenario of conversation when, with perfect timing, Bruce bounds up the stairs, looking more than a little harried. Whoever this ‘Wade’ guy is, he must’ve done something, because Banner almost looks like he needs an adult. 

“Bruce!” Bruce stiffens immediately as if he half expects someone to be after him, but Tony doesn’t notice as he bounds down to meet him at the foot of the stairs. “How’ve you been, buddy? I haven’t seen you in a few days.” 

Behind him, Tony hears some kind of thoughtful grunt, but he ignores it because, man, it is catching up with him that he must look like shit if the look on Bruce’s face is anything to go by.

“Are you wearing the same clothes from four days ago?” Bruce looks at him critically in a way that reminds Tony of Pepper (one of the few friends he’s managed to maintain over the years and who probably needs a phone call right about now, considering he totally forgot to fill her and Rhodey, his platonic other half, on how he was just disowned and is now broke as a joke), as if Tony’s growing something on his clothes or is about to collapse in the breeze. “Have you even eaten?”

“Okay, someone’s a little naggy,” Tony says in reply, because he’s never been one for that whole ‘concern that looks suspiciously like pity’ thing. “And fyi, I totally had a healthy and fulfilling lunch of ramen noodles and crackers. I have been living the high life, thank you.” 

“Jesus, I’d hate to see rock bottom for you then,” someone snorts behind him, and hey, _rude_ —sure he used them as landing cushions, but that’s still no way to talk about a stranger and his base coping habits. He’s not exactly surprised to find the woman and the man still behind him, but they’re both looking at Bruce. “He a friend of yours, Doc?” 

“Hello, Natasha, Clint.” Bruce doesn’t sound nervous for once, but he does sound polite, distant, like he’s used to polite greetings in the hallway and nothing more. “I’ve just met Mr. Stark actually, a few days ago—”

“You just called me ‘Mr. Stark’ when a few seconds ago you were nagging me on my food choices? Right. I don’t think so, Tim. I’m introducing myself, thank you.” Bruce makes a face but doesn’t comment as Tony spins on his heel and nods expansively towards the couple. “I’m Tony Stark, of course you’ve heard of me and yes, I am _THAT_ Tony Stark, so let’s just skip that whole part of the introduction since you two look like sharp, competent people. Bruce Banner is my knight in brown loafers and argyle sweater who saved me and my text books from the perilous and untoward advances of meth heads with butterfly knives. And the lovely couple would be?”

“Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton.” The guy, Clint, slides up his shades and winks at Tony in a way that kind of makes Tony want to ask if he and Natasha are open to experimentation with recently disowned tech empire heirs. “And the asshole earlier was Wade Wilson. We’re in 6B. He’s in 6D.” 

“We’re just a bit surprised since Dr. Banner usually keeps to himself.” If Natasha sounds suspicious, then Bruce doesn’t comment, instead he just nods, polite to the point of being almost painful. That’s when it hits Tony just how awkward this situation is: he hasn’t even been here a week and already he’s trying to befriend the resident recluse. Tony does what anyone in his situation would do, not give a fuck and make it as unawkward as possible by focusing everything on him instead.

“Hey, isn’t this a great time for some kind of neighborhood block party then? Only, you know, instead of a block we can just do someone’s room, and instead of a party we could do dinner, because I may or may not be suddenly getting hit with a crazy case of vertigo from being manhandled by a demented Mr. Wilson.” Tony’s not above hamming it up, because a) he actually is getting pretty hungry, b) Natasha and Clint, besides being hottie mctotties, also must be good people if they let crazy psychopaths slap their asses, and maybe that means they’re open to other experiences as well, and c) hamming it up is pretty much second nature to him. Or something--either way, he’s pulling out his best charm to try and get what he wants and is pleased to find that at least that is universal and wasn’t taken away along with his billions and millions. 

If Tony Stark can keep the peace between all of the bad apples that High society spat up to be his playmates, than he can certainly defuse the awkward conversation of people who are obviously trying to fight getting involved with their neighbors and are pleasantly happy to just stay acquaintances.

When it ends with Bruce and Natasha having a not entirely forced conversation over future job prospects (strangely enough, both of them seem interested in working for the government) and he and Hawkeye (Clint has the coolest fucking name _EVER_ , and this is coming from someone who used to eat dinner with people named after fruit and fucking Norse gods) bonding enthusiastically over bad decisions and property damage, Tony chalks it up to a success.

Sure, later Natasha is still going to be kind of stand-offish, and Bruce does his disappearing act again, but man, now that he’s won over Clint it’s kind of hard for Bruce and Natasha to fight the inevitable. After all, he and Clint weren’t even drunk or on any kind of substance when they both enthusiastically shared stories about shooting things and the beautiful explosions after, and if that’s not a good solid cementing point for a friendship, then Tony doesn’t know what is.

-

Tony eventually finds a job working in the library at MIT, which isn’t as glamorous as one would think--since word travels fast (because his peers might as well be fucking teenage girls and he might as well be Regina George) he doesn’t even get to work with the state-of-the-art computers. He’s pretty much a glorified gofer, and instead just kind of puts things back on the shelf and goes through the book returns and sorts magazines and audiobooks. It’s pretty telling from the fact that none of his superiors or coworkers will even acknowledge him outside of giving him orders, or that his workload consists of menial tasks like picking up someone’s dry cleaning, what everyone thinks of him. Still, it’s not as disgraceful as jobs go, and he can still build better computers than the ones on campus (because Dell has **NOTHING** on him), but it’s pretty obviously done to make an example of him. The hours mostly work with his school schedule though, so at least that’s a plus, even if the head librarian is kind of still pissed at him for something or another, and he always leaves work late and has to get there earlier than everyone else. But hey, it’s better than scrubbing the shit out of the toilets.

He’s also been running into less trouble lately, but whether it’s because he’s just being smarter now or because the criminals nearby are in literal fear of Bruce and his ‘episodes’, he’s not exactly sure. He actually takes his time getting home, treats himself to some nice takeout, and is all set to just crash with his food and his recently acquired older-than-he-is TV. Tony finds adjustment to life is easier with time, even though it doesn’t make him hate his dad less, and every time he feels like he’s being watched he always makes sure to turn around and give a very theatrical flip of the bird (which has led to some interesting conversations in the apartment complex but whatever, can never be too careful). Still, he’s probably getting the closest he can to acceptance. 

Of course, that’s when life throws him not just a fucking curveball, but the damn pitcher as well.

He opens the door to his cozy (tiny) apartment to find the TV already on and someone idly flipping through the channels. The only reason he doesn’t taser the intruder half to death is because even in the dim light, he can make out the practically florescent bottle green of Loki Odinson’s eyes, which he’s been intimately familiar with since he was five.

Loki and Thor Odinson were probably the closest Tony had to best friends of all the people his parents forced him to interact with, the Xavier siblings aside, if only because Charles was friends with everybody, or at the very least so disgustingly charming no one hated him outright. Tony included. 

It’s just unfortunate that the Odinsons are the rare breed of old world aristocrats, constantly on display and always travelling, insulated by money and power to the point that they’re actually pretty fucked up. Loki’s inferiority complex and abandonment issues have done such a number on him that despite appearances, his sanity gets compromised fairly quickly. He’s also unfortunate in that he’s always sure to lash out when he’s hurt, always able to cut with his words even when he tries not to. Thor’s slightly better off, if only because he’s got a better grasp on himself, but it’s not much better considering he’s eight countries-worth of uninsurable when it comes to his temper tantrums. That and the poor guy honestly talks and acts like he’s some kind of feudal lord; Tony’s still not sure how he handles leaving their home country of Asgard.

“Welcome home. I thought I’d surprise you with a gracious visit.” Loki doesn’t bother looking up from where he’s still idly channel-surfing. “It was rather rude of you to not tell me that you don’t live at home anymore. I don’t think your father will be warming up to me anytime soon.” 

Tony ignores the barb that’s no doubt hidden somewhere there and places his take out down, reaching for a light. He’s got a bad feeling about this, but he just focuses on seeing if anybody else is in the apartment as well. Since the room all together is about as big as his bedroom back home, he figures it out rather quickly--per usual, Loki’s alone. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you’d be on another continent.” Tony finally manages to locate the light switch and flicks it on. There’s the hum of electricity and the light bulb dimly flickers, needing its timespan of basically five minutes to turn on full power. From what he can see, despite a black eye and spare cuts to his face, Loki looks unharmed. He knew, from experience of a particularly shitty night during their teens that led to a stomach pump, that Loki’s relatively drug free and more than content staying that way. Thank _Christ_. Not that he needs it for all the bad ideas and vices he has on his own. 

“I can’t stop in to see my only friend?” It’s actually pretty sad how many things Loki says that are true, considering his propensity for lying. It’s also a testament to how fucked up Loki is that he doesn’t even realize it, either, just casually tosses these things in like it’s somehow normal that he’s only really got Tony. And Tony’s not even **THERE** a good portion of the time; everyone else Loki is stuck with are Thor’s friends. Despite the wistful looks that Fandral guy gives Loki when he thinks no one’s looking, it goes about as well as you think it’d go when your kid brother is forced to tolerate your friends, and vice-versa. “I’m not joking about relocating--some idiots tried to apprehend my brand new scarf earlier. I was forced to concuss a few of them on my way in.” 

“Forgive me if I’m a little—” As the lamp finally kicks into full force, Tony’s eyes immediately lock onto the bandage wound tight around his left arm, white fading to red, and he hears the anger and naked shock in his own voice. “Did you get **_SHOT_**?”  
Loki actually has the nerve to look put upon, like he can’t honestly be bothered to answer the question. 

“It was a clean through and through.” He actually sniffs at Tony, like he’s discussing something distasteful, even though Tony can appreciate he put on the tourniquet properly enough that he’s not _completely_ bleeding over the couch he and Pepper just reupholstered a few days ago (that was of course, after she chewed him out and then cried on him for hours).  
“What the **_HELL_** , Loki? When were you going to tell me?” He needs to call an ambulance now, or at the very least, do something, because blood is getting everywhere and leave it to Loki Odinson, bestie of the fucking year, to scare the panic into him that being suddenly cut off wasn’t quite able to inspire. 

“I thought it seemed rather redundant to say anything once you saw it,” Loki informed him primly, and it must be getting bad if his accent is slipping and his words are slurring. The asshole must realize it too, but he’s refusing to acknowledge it. “Since we’ve established I am in need of medical attention, please call whatever black market doctor you can muster post haste, no need to involve the authorities. Best not to move me any more lest I bleed ou—”  
Loki then promptly blacks out from blood loss like the little inconvenient shit he is.

-

When he’s asked later, Tony doesn’t really quite recall how he got Bruce and Clint into his apartment to clean up his childhood friend’s bullet wound, with no explanation to how he got said bullet wound, while steadfastly refusing to take said friend to the hospital like a fucking normal person would. And being able to accomplish all this despite not seeing Bruce for days (again) and how he caught Clint just returning home from work, was a miracle. 

All he can recall is that it really doesn’t hit him that they’re even in the damn place, with Bruce tentatively rolling up his sleeves, and Clint setting a first aid kit down on the coffee table. That is, until he hears--out of the crazy fog that was blurring everything but Loki on the couch--Bruce saying, “You know I’m not an actual doctor, right? I don’t actually have a medical degree.”

And it’s like suddenly everything’s switched on, and Tony realizes he’s shaking, and Jesus Christ he’s going to **PUNCH** Loki once he regains consciousness, because he hasn’t even noticed that he’s standing beside him, holding his hand in a death grip, the feel of bones and flesh jarring between his fingers. 

“If you don’t let go of my hand right now, Anthony Edward Stark, I will let them take my arm off and _**beat**_ you with it.” Oh hey, Loki’s awake after all.  
True to inappropriate form, Tony cuffs Loki on the head—and thereby almost nearly ruins the whole process of getting his stitches sewn in. Loki hisses a curse and calls his parentage into question, _in French_ , of all languages. Tony still doesn’t let go, and in fact squeezes harder. 

“Would you wait till **_AFTER_** he’s not bleeding all over the place to give your boyfriend a love tap?” Clint is surprisingly blasé about holding the remaining tatters of Loki’s shirt open as Bruce methodically moves the needle up and down through Loki’s skin. Which… actually doesn’t worry him so much as just confirms the stereotype of people who rent in this part of downtown. 

“For someone who’s not _**THAT**_ kind of doctor, you’re surprisingly adept at what you’re doing,” Tony says, because hey, let it not be said he’s not reality avoidant. 

“Doc Banner volunteers almost obsessively at one of those medical centers around here for people who can’t afford health insurance,” Clint informs him conversationally, because apparently that’s just something well known about Bruce. “Obviously he’s more of a glorified nurse than anything, but you get all types of injuries.” 

Bruce makes a non-committal sound, almost casually. “Something like that.” 

“Tony, you love me, don’t you?” Loki suddenly interjects, words still slurred, but grip on Tony’s hand hesitant. “More than Thor?”

Clint and Bruce both go silent--it’s as close to giving them privacy as they can get without physically leaving.

Tony knows that he can’t push for the reason behind the question, can’t even push to know where Thor is, why Loki’s even here. He’ll pull a runner, gunshot wound or not, and Tony just can’t risk that. No matter how much he hates it. 

“I’m letting you bleed all over my new-ish couch when I can’t even afford another one. What do you think?” is all he manages through gritted teeth. “Of course I do.”

“I suppose you won’t mind sharing this jail cell of a residence, then?” Loki laughs, and it sounds wet and desperate, so very tired. “Because truthfully, you’re all I have now.” 

Something breaks in Tony’s chest--he has to hand it to Loki, he’s just so fucking good at inspiring emotions and feelings that hurt worse than anything else. Tony sighs and finally lets go of his hand. 

“You’re finding a brand new couch and reupholstering it yourself then, roomie.” Because fuck logic, fuck that he can barely support himself, and fuck that Loki Odinson is beyond one of the bitchiest people he knows—asshole just better not kick him in his sleep like he used to.

-

Bruce and Clint get Loki patched up fairly quickly after that, and Loki is actually a model patient, for once. As soon as they finish however, he steadfastly ignores any suggestions or attempts to get him to a proper hospital and is just outright rude whenever the topic of pain medicine comes up. Tony ends up shepherding the two into the tiny space that constitutes his kitchen just to get them away from him, since Loki would be that rare breed of asshole who doesn’t understand you have to be **NICE** to the people who patch you up after you’ve been shot. 

“Sorry about that, Loki’s social skills are shit—aristocracy and all that.” Bruce just shrugs, looking surprisingly unperturbed as he washes his hands in Tony’s tiny metal sink. “He’s about the worst house guest you can imagine, so this is pretty much guaranteed to be a shit show. In all seriousness though, I feel like I owe you guys like a lot—I don’t have cash, but I do have two hands and some lukewarm bottles of beer in what I still think is supposed to be a fridge. So what’ll it be, boys--blowjobs, hand jobs, or alcohol?” 

Bruce and Clint exchange glances, then look back at him.

“Did you just offer to prostitute yourself to us in exchange for our help?” Clint asks, like they both think it’s hilarious, which kind of hurts Tony’s pride, okay. His handjobs are legendary… he thinks.

“It’s… fine, we’re neighbors. These things happen…” Bruce replies placatingly, then amends, “… sometimes. This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood.”

“I will take you up on the offer of free beer, and I’ll take a ‘maybe’ on the handjob later.” Clint winks, and Tony feels maybe the littlest bit disappointed they’re both declining, but whatever, he just shrugs and goes the three feet distance to raid his fridge. “So any chance you’d tell us what the deal is with your boyfriend?”

“Hard to believe, but Loki and I grew up together. He’s the son of some kind of lord in some country in Europe where they’re all about tradition and Vikings.” Tony hands Clint a beer. Bruce waves the other one away, so Tony just hipchecks the door closed and takes it for himself. “So no, not my boyfriend—too complicated to even begin explaining that—but he is here, and annoying, so I’ll have to get used to it. Probably going to need a second job--or hell, just maybe a better one.”

“I’d help you out, but being a bouncer would not suit you at all,” Clint says, leaning against the counter and picking at the beer bottle label. “Nat’s job isn’t really in your skill set either, so we’ll send moral support and good vibes.”

Tony glances over to where Bruce is wiping his hand on the hand towel Pepper’s placed nearby, looking considering, but when he realizes that Tony’s looking at him, he avoids his gaze and keeps focused on Loki in the distance. The little asshole is still staring at the TV, even though it’s off, sitting with the tatters of his dress shirt around him, making no attempt to straighten it out. 

“You work at the local university, right? You must be up to your eyeballs in R.A.s considering you’re like, **THE** pioneer in Gamma radiation.” Because whenever someone piques Tony’s interest, he usually ends up doing research on them, not in a creepy _“I know what you like to eat and the schedule of your bowel movements”_ kind of way, but in _“I want to know what you do and see if we have anything in common so we can talk about it, otherwise you’re probably not worth it”_ way… which he figures is slightly less creepy. “Before you ask, I wasn’t being weird and eccentric, it’s called Google.”

Bruce just raises a brow, crossing his arms, but he does jerk his shoulder slightly.

“I doubt you’d like working with me.” It’s not meant to sound like a threat, and Tony doesn’t interpret it that way, but Clint excuses himself rather quickly to keep Loki company. Bruce just looks at him in the same put-upon-way he did at the elevator. “Seriously, Tony—you don’t know the first thing about what I do, you’re an engineering student.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t learn, I’m a genius, remember? I build robots for fun--hell, I’ve been building one out of spare parts at school during lunch. Give me three days and I can learn enough to help you out,” Tony challenges Bruce, because once he’s set his mind to something, not even his father or God himself can deter him. “You look overworked all the time, and if you’re really volunteering at this clinic on the side, you probably don’t have a lot of free time to do as much as research as you can.”

“I can’t handle having more than one person helping me out. I need to keep a low-stress environment,” Bruce replies, voice firm, mouth slanted downwards. “It wouldn’t be safe for you—”

“You volunteer at a clinic where you’ve gotten enough practice to treat gunshot wounds, how is that ‘low-stress’?” Tony demands. “You can’t possibly just have you and one other person doing research alone like that. If you’re not interested in hiring me, just say so, but don’t make up some bullshit excuse for—”

“Tony, you’ve seen how I am when I get angry,” Bruce bites out, expression unreadable and tone sharp and quick like he’s being held at knife point. “You had to taser me, for chrissake. The only reason I even have **_ONE_** R.A. is because the university forced me—” 

“So if I can handle your temper and learn all I can about gamma radiation to be of help, you’ll hire me? Because what I’m getting from all of this is the whole reason you won’t isn’t on account of personal failings on my part, but because you don’t think I can handle you getting upset?” Tony has the shit sense of self-preservation that comes with making bad decisions and never really learning from most of them. “Because if that’s all it takes, I’ll gladly take working for you full time than the prissy, jealous assholes who pretty much constitute my co-workers at my other job.” 

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” Bruce doesn’t look upset; instead he just looks sad, weary. “I’m serious, Tony. This will only end badly.”

“Listen, I get it—you’re worried for my safety, but honestly? I think the fact I was able to knock you out when you went into full rage monster mode should be enough of a sign that I’m perfect for the job. Hell, do you know how many self-defense lessons I’ve had to sit through because of the constant and ever present danger of kidnappers? I’ve been prepped for evading guys grabbing me and throwing me around—it’d be like my Olympics.” Bruce looks like he wants to comment on that, which too bad Tony won’t let him--say what you will about the current state of his family life, but those joint lessons were the only time he was ever allowed to hit Warren Worthington the 3rd in the face and get away with it. 

“Bruce, I’m not going to let this go—and you know I’m pretty much the only qualified guy for the job, if the standard is pretty much ‘survive my tantrums’.” There’s more, so much more, and Tony’s tempting fate because he still doesn’t even know Bruce that well, but he knows that while Bruce lives in this shitty place and wears shitty clothes, Tony would still probably get paid more working for him than he would ever be being the bitch of the head librarian. That, and Bruce is so much more tolerable, they’re not even on the same level of comparison. 

Bruce doesn’t look happy at all, and actually looks like he could be getting a little upset, but all that comes out of his mouth is a long exhale. 

“You understand, the University is going to make you sign a liability waver, correct? That they’ll wash their hands of any chance of injury from me.” And Bruce sounds like he hates it, like he’s so disgusted and upset with himself that the words physically make him ill. “If you get hurt because of me, I won’t—”

“Really Bruce, you’re pretty much the grand total of the fourth person in my life who actually sounds like they’d feel bad about hurting me,” Tony remarks, forgetting all about Loki, Clint, and everything but meeting Bruce’s gaze, making sure to hold it. “If anything you’re spoiling me.”

-

Bruce still makes him take some kind of aptitude test before he can apply. There’s also waivers and letters galore from the university, all basically stating what Bruce told him earlier--they do add that there’s usually security hanging around the area, so if he does get hurt, it won’t be long before Bruce is taken down.

It’s not exactly a comforting thought, and yet, he gets more upset at the idea of people waiting to tranquilize Bruce like a fucking animal than he does at the idea he could get hurt.  
Which, hey, that’s just how Tony’s mind works, he guesses. 

Pepper, now that she’s been introduced back into his life, is amazing and wonderful and stops by when she can. Since they both have classes in the morning to the afternoon--and Tony’s not being anal, but really he’s still kind of worried Loki will pull a runner while injured, and he’s just not down with the idea of an injured Loki attempting to fight his way through muggers--he’s relieved to finally meet the people in 6A, who coincidentally have enough time to watch Loki until Tony can get home. 

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are both clearly ex-military, and also clearly victims of DADT, and they’re nice enough to put up with Loki’s bitching whenever Tony has to leave. Loki’s still not about to say anything that happened, or how he got shot, or how he got there, but after a few nights, when he’s better enough to share the bed with Tony, he does whisper a few things into the crook of Tony’s neck where he’s curled against him. He wasn’t shot by anyone he knew, his family is mad at him, he has no family, he has no home, please don’t make him go home. It comes out jumbled and lost in the sound of the air conditioner on full blast, but it’s still telling how much Loki clings to him in the mornings and evenings after.

-

Of course he gets the job, and gets to savor the look on everyone’s faces when he hands in his two weeks’ notice. Along with the new job come the new coworkers--for the most part, the rest of the staff at Bruce’s university seem pretty amazed solely at who he is, never mind that he wants to work for Bruce. (The Engineering and I.T. departments both make some awkward attempts at trying to woo him over, but he just waves them off, because grudge match with MIT’s library or not, he still goes to that school and not Bruce’s). He does get to meet the only other assistant that Bruce has.

Amadeus Cho is fifteen going on sixteen and is literally in the middle of battling a gym leader in Pokémon when Bruce opens the door to his office for the first time. He’s sitting cross-legged on someone’s bare back as whoever it is does push-ups without a shirt on, and if Tony Stark thought Thor Odinson was huge, the guy he’s using as a chair literally looks like one of those Greek statues come to life. 

Turns out Amadeus Cho is adopted, and despite appearances, the big guy is actually his brother Hercules (no, Tony shits you not, that is his fucking name), and he is the ‘security’ the University mentioned. He’s a lot like Thor Odinson, except without all the pomp and circumstance and being kind of a man-whore. Amadeus, on the other hand, is self-assured and confident enough about his intelligence that he’s a smartass, but not condescending. Five minutes into talking with him and Tony almost wonders if this is what it would be like if he and Loki were to have some kind of weird Korean love child. He’s also fast as hell and amazing adept at turning anything into a weapon when it needs to be--but since his big brother is pretty much a large Greek shadow, he’s pretty safe. 

Amadeus and Bruce work well enough together that, for a few days, it kind of irks Tony that he can’t figure out the secret to their harmony. 

Not that he’s jealous (because seriously, Amadeus is **FIFTEEN** , and his big brother is always **THERE** —except when a pretty co-ed walks by, but it's pretty rare given how they’re in the **BASEMENT** of all places), but it just really bugs him that Bruce can be perfectly fine around someone who records data sets while also fighting the Elite Four and bitching loudly about the state of his dating life, all at the same time. And how it occurs constantly. 

Amadeus actually is the one to approach him about it first.

Tony is going through some paperwork, easily recording the results of a lab test as he checks his phone, because Rhodey is still mad at him and not answering his calls, and he knows he’ll have to physically show up at Rhodey’s barracks to get him to talk, because Rhodey may be pretty much his soul mate (without the romance, sadly), but he can hold a grudge like no other. Amadeus is scribbling some variables on the white board as Herc unabashedly sleeps on the couch nearby. 

“Not that I mind, but any reason you’re here? Not a lot of people understand this stuff—and less people want to stay in the room with Banner, considering his propensity to go mental.” Amadeus doesn’t seem upset or confused, just curious. “You interested in hooking up with him? Because I’m sure there are easier ways than this.”

“I could ask the same of you,” Tony snorts, wry. “Shouldn’t you be in high school telling the popular kids how you’re going to own all their jobs one day? Or, I don’t know, wreaking havoc on people via the internet?”

Amadeus shrugs, and for a second he looks actually really young in the florescent white light. 

“Dude, that’s so gross and illegal, Herc is **RIGHT** there—why would you talk about my mentor, not to mention boss, wanting my underage ass in here, of all places.” Amadeus wrinkles his nose in exaggerated disgust. “You’re avoiding the question: give me a straight answer, and we can all go back to working with the minimal effort required, without you taking this conversation to awkward pedo levels.” 

Tony wants very much to point out that Amadeus didn’t exactly answer his question either, but he’s not stupid enough to think he’ll get an answer if he doesn’t give up one first.

“Ha ha, kid, Bruce and I just live in the same apartment complex—I needed more money and since this seemed like a more mentally stimulating solution than working the graveyard shift at a gas station or kowtowing to people who get their jollies off of me shelving books for hours, I asked him nicely for it.” Tony’s phone buzzes, but when he checks it, all he finds is that his spam folder is on the fritz.

“You’re Tony Stark, don’t you have more money than God?” Amadeus points out, not even bothering to hide the nosy undertone. “And there’s no way Bruce would just **GIVE** you this job, either—people more qualified than you, even ones who **WANTED** to put up with his anger issues, have all tried to get hired—and they didn’t make it. He’s too afraid of the Hulk to let other people deal with it.” 

“Two things: one, I am not relying on my father for money, so no, I do not have more money than God, I am currently just swimming over being broke; and two, what are you even talking about?” If Hercules has suddenly stopped pointedly snoring, they both don’t comment on it.

“You don’t know about ‘ _the Hulk_ ’?” Amadeus blinks at him, capping the marker in his hand again, and frowns. “That’s what ‘angry’ Bruce calls himself.”

“It has a name?” That explains why Bruce stopped responding to his own name.

“Well yeah, dude, it’s like a totally different personality.” Amadeus regards him for a moment before stepping closer. “Did you really not know?”

“I’ve only ever ‘met’ the ‘Hulk’ once, and I didn’t exactly get to talk to him—had to taser the guy to put him down before he jumped me,” Tony says, feeling strangely defensive. “How do **YOU** even know about this ‘Hulk’ anyways?”

Amadeus walks close enough to put the marker on the table, places it down so that the top of the plastic green cap stands in the light like a chess piece.

“Because we’re kind of okay with each other, I guess? I know it’s hard to believe, but I actually don’t mind the Hulk—sure, he scares the shit out of everyone else, and Herc’s had to hold him down a few times till he turns back to normal, but he never lies.” Amadeus places the blue marker next to green, moving it a little forward like a Rook, ready to take any of Tony’s pieces.  
“And sure, Hulk does some damage—but at least he does it because he can’t control himself… some people, they do that type of stuff anyways—just because they can, and just because they want to.” 

Amadeus gazes at the marker chessmen, sliding them slowly forward. Herc goes completely still. Tony doesn’t pry, because he’s not that kind of person, but he does note the way Amadeus paused when Bruce explained that he had been allowed to test out and graduate early due to ‘extraneous circumstances’.

“Bruce always feels sorry about his episodes after, that’s why he’s always working himself to exhaustion. Because that way… there’s less chance of him going out and getting someone hurt. He doesn’t even think of it like it’s their fault for making him mad, because it takes a lot for him to get mad now—he thinks it’s _HIS_ fault for letting himself get upset. Kind of messed up, right?” Amadeus shrugs. “So you know why I’m fine working here, and why I won’t be quitting any time soon—what’s your deal?” 

Tony actually… can’t think of an answer to that. He opens his mouth, thinks, but comes up with nothing really.

Amadeus pockets the markers and throws a thoughtful glance over his shoulder. “I’m not saying the Hulk is a good person, because he’s not. But he’s not a terrible person either—and neither is Banner. Banner’s probably one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

-

Work with Amadeus and Bruce goes by pretty quickly, actually, even with the ‘Hulk’ being some kind of ever present danger. It’s actually the most fun Tony’s had in a long time--there’s something inherently different in talking to Bruce and Amadeus about thermonuclear physics. Their enthusiasm towards the subject is infectious, and it’s kind of neat knowing that he’s making headway into a field that just happens to be mostly free from the Stark name (because fuck his dad _still_ ). Judge all you want, but the three of them huddling around white boards and talking, discussing, and debating gets him excited, makes him eager to learn, and is actually a great way to spend Friday nights. 

And with that weird conversation he had with Amadeus a few weeks ago, Tony is kind of starting to see Bruce in a new light. It’s pretty clichéd, but Tony figures his whole existence is one giant cliché, so best not to fight fate. 

Despite his enthusiasm and genuine love for the subject, there’s something about the way Bruce holds himself, like the guy’s about to collapse if someone breathes too hard. Bruce **literally** only has his university work and the clinic--he only really goes home because Tony has a sneaking suspicion he’s been discouraged from living in the labs. 

Which is why Tony thinks it’s totally appropriate and even called for to try and do something nice for the guy, since he’s putting up with his crazy shenanigans/paying his bills. Also, for someone who was questioning Tony’s food choices, Bruce barely eats himself. Tony makes his plans for when Bruce has no excuse to decline, with the university being shut down due to some national holiday and the labs closed. _Operation Lure Bruce over for dinner since outright invitations are met with suspicion/refusal_ spends an embarrassingly long time in the planning stages, because Tony is nit-picky and because what he **DOES** know about Bruce is that he’s great at getting out of things. Admittedly, that’s the plan’s working title, but Tony’s not really focused on it. He’s got bigger things to worry about, like how and what to cook since Loki’s been doing the cooking (cooking and cleaning are about all Loki does--he’s also annoyingly precise about both, and Tony has his own system so organizing his shit mostly just frustrates instead of helps, but he feels like Loki’s doing that on purpose to be an ass) and he kind of can’t cook worth shit.

Loki, who’s still on the mend, is helpful in that he’s not helping at all, but at least he’s not trying to sabotage anything, and he even offers to go over to Pepper’s. Pepper and Loki adore one another in a way that both mystifies and worries Tony.

“I don’t know why you just can’t **_STAY_** , it’s not like Bruce doesn’t know we live together.” Loki’s kind of hard to miss--for someone who refuses to leave the building, he spends a lot of time hanging around, more so than Tony—Tony’s not even sure what Loki even _**DOES**_ , but everyone’s formed an of opinion him within a week. Natasha and Clint are not fans, while Wade Wilson sings praises of him (literally). Tony’s still not even sure how Bucky and Steve get along with Loki, considering how Loki is… Loki. 

“Tony, you’re actually making dinner for someone—if you’re seeking to fornicate with him, having me in the area would be highly detrimental to that. Not that I doubt my presence would stop _YOU_ from enjoying yourself, but I am quite sure the good doctor would not like me watching tv with only four feet and what might as well be poster-board thin walls as a partition. There’s a marathon on haunted sea creatures that night, and I am most **intrigued**.” 

Whatever word Tony was writing on his cramped whiteboard is now lost to the ages and comes out in a scribble. “Since when does doing something nice for someone mean I want to **BONE** them?” he demands, because hey, his history as a playboy aside, that’s uncalled for.

Loki just sniffs and reclines further against the couch. Tony takes pleasure in the fact that his attempt to dramatically sulk is ruined because he’s wearing one of Tony’s AC/DC shirts, and it is way too big for his skinny ass. 

“Oh darling, when doesn’t _it_?”

Tony wants to point out that letting Loki pretty much bum off his new bum-life has yet to lead to anything of the sort between them, and he’s about to say it too, when he looks up and sees Loki make the same realization.

Loki sighs and rises from the couch, already pushing Tony aside from the white board.

“First off, you can’t decide a dinner menu with only drinks listed, you drunkard… ”  
Loki ends up pretty much agreeing to cook for him and Bruce, which actually works out better than Tony would have expected.

-

He doesn’t exactly corner Bruce after they’re locking up, but he totally does. He even gets Amadeus to convince Hercules to block the double doors until Bruce gives an affirmation.

“Dinner my place, in one hour—school’s closed tomorrow and I already talked to someone at the clinic off of 5th Street and cancelled your shift for you,” Tony informs him with charm-a-plenty; he also strategically puts himself right in between Bruce and the office door. He probably shouldn’t be crowding the guy with rage issues, but whatevs. “You deserve a night out, and by that I mean, me feeding you in my recently redecorated apartment while we discuss science.” 

Tony emphasizes the word “ **science** ” with a flourish of hands, he figures it’ll be a good selling point.

Bruce just looks blankly at him for a few moments before he takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes.

“I can’t say ‘no’ to this, can I?” He doesn’t sound **THAT** desperate to get out of the offer, so Tony figures he and his million-dollar smile are forces of good in this world. 

“Will Loki be there?”

“Nope, just you and me, Doc. Odinson’s out on the town with Pepper--they’re dragging the unfortunately attractive gay couple from 6A,” Tony recounts, easing up just the bit on personal space. “May God have mercy on this poor town _ **tonight**_.” 

Bruce huffs a slightly surprised laugh. “Is that really necessary?”

“Everything about this is absolutely necessary. Now turn around so I can very **_professionally_** high-five Herc to inform him that my brilliant master plan worked-slash-reign in awe of my own glory for a few minutes.”

Bruce shakes his head fondly and obediently turns around to do one last routine check of his things before they head out. 

Tony is so going to take the scenic route with the least hobos on the way back in appreciation. Even if they’re taking two separate cars anyway, it’s the principle of the thing.

-

“I know you’ve seen my place pre-Loki, but rest assured, thanks to my new trophy wife, our floor is literally so clean you can eat off of it.” If anything Tony figures immaculate cleanliness should count as some kind of selling point, considering he’s half worried Loki’s going to leave condoms on the counter or a vibrator on a chair as a pointed hint. When he opens the door, however, the place is spotless, and Loki actually put in the effort to set the table. 

“I’m **mostly sure** that he didn’t poison the food either, since without me, he’d have to get a job—Loki doesn’t really seem like the type, but he’s actually a really good cook. I have a theory it’s his brother’s fault, but we’re actively avoiding bringing up that little piece of therapy,” Tony remarks, putting his coat on the couch.

“ _Mostly sure_?” Bruce repeats. Tony doesn’t have to turn around to see the raised brow on his face, like he can’t believe Tony and his brain-to-mouth filter, still. “That’s comforting.”

“Eight five to ninety-five percent--I have mentioned that he’s a trophy wife, right?” Tony clarifies, going over to survey the stove just in case. He turns to see Bruce awkwardly hovering around the couch. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “My furniture will not bite you, just relax. Take off your coat—I’m not about to steal it or anything.” 

“It’s just been a while since I’ve been over to anyone’s house,” Bruce explains, unbuttoning his blazer, and Tony notes the way he hesitates like he’s not sure what he’s doing. “So forgive me if my manners are a bit—”

“Bruce, you’re fine. I’m just teasing you.” And it’s kind of sad, isn’t it? That Bruce is just so alone that he’s practically at a loss at what to do outside of the lab. “Now sit down so I can try and serve you with reduced chance of spilling anything on you—“

“Wouldn’t me standing away from the table—“

“No, you don’t get _**logic**_ in my house. Sit down or I will actually **TRY** to spill something on you, and it will be unpleasant, and you will feel awkward because then I get to lend you clothes, and won’t that just end in the _**BEST**_ kind of rumors?” 

Bruce makes a face, and it actually looks amused, but he holds up his hands placatingly and does as he’s told. 

-

Whatever the fuck Loki made, it’s actually really tasty. Tony makes sure to give Bruce the lion’s share--he’s sure that Bruce can tell too, because when Tony gets up to gather the dishes, he opens his mouth, then sighs and closes it. Tony counts it as a win. 

There’s ice cream sandwiches in the fridge, and they somehow end up on the fire escape eating them and looking at the distant outline of the glittering city in front of them. 

Conversation is actually pretty simple with Bruce if you keep it on work; the moment it strays into the personal, he deflects. Tony can respect that, actually: coming from an upbringing where your personal business is laid out for the world to see, he can appreciate the need for privacy. Doesn’t mean he’s not curious though.

They’re finishing up a conversation on some article Bruce is going to submit to a scientific journal. It’s actually kind of peaceful, sitting there with the faint light of the apartment windows behind them and the city lights in front of them. And Tony blurts out suddenly, “So we should do this more often--we’re neighbors, and Loki cooks way too much food and we end up just throwing it away, and do you understand how many starving college kids it could feed?”

“… what.” Bruce may need a few minutes to realize they aren’t talking about physics anymore, because he’s kind of looking at Tony like he’s just said something crazy. Which, you know, Tony does from time to time, but whatever. 

“You should come over to eat Loki’s food, because he complains to me and gets passive-aggressive about it, and it affects my work performance.” It’s mostly a lie, and skeptical doesn’t even begin to describe the look Bruce is giving him.

“I don’t think… that’s such a good idea.” Bruce casts his glance to the ice cream wrapper in his hand, like he’s eager to find an excuse to leave in it. “I’m not sure the other guy will like it…”

“No offence, Bruce, but I don’t see how me feeding you home cooked meals is going to bring about your temper? If this is about Loki--he’s actually a good guy, you just met him on an off day… being shot and all. Oh hey, that’s the first time you’d been here too, right?” Tony rambles, since he’s actually getting really attached to this idea of having Bruce around more.  
He likes to talk about science, and he likes Bruce, so win-win, right? “Besides, on my drastically reduced stipend, I need to make the most of my money now. And if anything, your company will give me a chance not to focus on the negatives of my life here.” Tony’s really not one to mope, and Bruce probably knows that, but he’s not above using guilt because he’s still kind of an asshole like that. 

“It’s not so simple,” Bruce protests, frowning at him, then considering. “Wait, are you trying to guilt me into agreeing to eat here on a regular basis?”

“Don’t make me pull out the _**laundry list**_ of defects I’ve gotten thanks to my upbringing—so help me, Banner, we are not playing the ‘ _my life sucks_ ’ game, because I swear to you I will win,” Tony returns with a breezy smile, and it’s a testament to how much Bruce has gotten to know him that he’s kind of just looking at Tony with only the littlest bit of disbelief. 

“You know, most people aren’t very eager to have me over as a dinner guest in general,” Bruce informs him, eyes wary, and Tony meets his gaze instantly. 

“I’m going to stop you there, because really, Bruce? I’m not going to stop associating with you because of this ‘other guy’. You forget I’ve known you for a while now, and I’ve actually, you know, **_MET_** him, so I kind of know what to expect on that. Sure, he may scare me, but not enough to leave—I don’t know how to emphasize this, but I’m not leaving any time soon. I’ve kind of already accepted it comes with the territory.” Because really, Tony has, and he doesn’t know how to explain that he’d rather take Bruce’s temper tantrums due to his subconscious than pills and loneliness. “I don’t know the story behind it, and you don’t have to tell me, really, because it’s in the past, and I’ve always been one for foresight instead of hindsight.”

Bruce blinks at him, and it kind of hurts that there’s surprise in his eyes. Like he can’t comprehend the idea--Tony can practically hear the ‘why’ on the tip of his tongue.

“Face it, Bruce, you’re coming back here and eating this food again,” Tony says instead, dodging the question for another day. 

Bruce gives him an exasperated smile: something about it is strangely attractive. Tony actually has to pause for a second.

“There’s no point in refusing, is there?” Bruce asks, leaning against the black wrought iron, the shadows crisscrossing against the lavender of his aged button-up. 

“I have an inherent theory that the reason I’m relatively _**shorter**_ than Loki is because my father only _**sparingly**_ hugged me as a child,” Tony finishes, ready to dip into that well if need be.

“Point taken,” Bruce sighs, but it comes out a laugh, and Tony can’t help but grin in pride at the sound. 

It totally makes up for later, when Loki will show up being escorted in Steve and Bucky’s strong arms, and totally throws up all over Tony before passing out in his bed, and throwing up on that too.

-

Bruce doesn’t show up every night for a meal, but he never resists nearly as much as he did initially. It’s fun to have him over, even if Loki is totally passive-aggressively hinting that Tony and Bruce should bone.

Pepper also tends to coincidentally show up around those times.

“Hello, I’m Pepper Potts, and Tony has told me everything about you,” she introduces herself the first time, practically shoving Tony out of the way and offering her hand. He actually hasn’t told her **_EVERYTHING_** about Bruce, and he wants to point that out, but they’re both ignoring him.

Pepper may be one of his best friends, but when she’s in her element, she can be a hoss and seem threatening to anyone, even Charles Francis Xavier. It’s kind of what made Tony love her, since she first gave him a black eye when they were in junior high, when he accidentally knocked into her on the train, complete with unfortunate hand landings on her shirt. 

Thank Christ, Bruce takes it a lot better than most men (and a lot of Tony’s former girlfriends) and just returns her handshake and greets her back politely.

“Bruce Banner. A pleasure, Ms. Potts.” Loki and Pepper exchange approving glances when they think that Tony can’t see, and that just makes him miss Rhodey harder, even if Rhodey is ignoring him, his calls, and even his attempts to talk to him at his barracks. 

Honestly, Tony will let them think what they want, though, because he and Bruce get to talk _Science_ at the table while Loki and Pepper pretend to sigh loudly in exasperation, and it’s kind of a family Kodak moment, and he actually digs it a lot.

-

What Tony doesn’t dig is when he’s trying to actually work, and Loki and Pepper drop revelation-making bombshells on him—because he just has this system of how he does things, and when he needs to be eccentric and do things his way, it’s not the time to make him question things while he’s working on equations to go over with Bruce later.

Pepper and Loki aren’t even trying to hide it, either: they both sit down on either side of him on the couch, and Loki elbows him in the side and the jerk has BONY elbows so it actually kind of hurts a little.

“I’m proud of you, Tony,” Pepper explains, and she looks… happy, like it’s the greatest thing. And he kind of has to blink at her a few times because he has no idea what she’s talking about.

“You may not have noticed, but you have actually changed somewhat due to your father’s new ‘experiment’,” Loki states, and then because Tony must be making some kind of face, Loki gives him his best ‘bitch’ face and adds, “you’re not currently running around drunkenly and wildly mating with co-eds.”

“Okay, first off, check your privilege, Loki—why is it ‘mating’? That’s offensive to me and the Discovery Channel. And second off, I’ve kind of been a bit distracted doing a gigantic screw you to my dad and working in a field he’s been dancing on the edge of but has never been able to break into—and also making it in the big, bad city by being cocksure and resolute.” Because Tony is touched, but he’s also offended and, maybe he hasn’t had a few days sleep in him, so, crabby. 

“You know what we mean, Tony,” Pepper interjects, and sure he _**DOES**_ , but he’s still crabby and offended and touched. “Ever since Bruce and living here, you’ve just… changed.” He’s still not sure how, and he feels like it’ll boil over into an argument somehow if he prods at it, but since she’s Pep, and since she loves _**him**_ , she just lets it go.

Loki theatrically gives Tony a put-upon look like the little ass he is, and just gets off the couch with a huffed: “Thank you for reminding me why I find compliments to be esoteric and unnecessary, Stark.” 

It’s after he’s stomped off and Pepper is leaning over to examine a magazine, dropping the subject for now, that Tony actually considers what they just said.  
It wasn’t intended in the slightest, but… he’s kind of changed, hasn’t he? 

He’s spending more time with Bruce lately then he does even with Loki, and Loki is the one living with him. 

“Well, how about that,” he mutters to no one in particular, and even though there’s walls separating them, he casts a glance at the door and tries to imagine Bruce walking up the steps from his shift at the clinic he’s almost always at. If he concentrates hard enough, he can even make out the crinkles in his uniform, the tired yet content line of his shoulders, and the anxious movement of his hands as Bruce makes his way home.

-

“Are you sure you two aren’t doing it?” is all Amadeus asks one day when Bruce and Tony are both writing on the smart board. They may have been gossiping about the possibilities of Clint and Natasha being open to threeways, and who has better chances of getting in there, Tony or Loki (so it may have just been him thinking aloud, and Bruce just being a buzz kill and throwing logic into the situation). Tony still doesn’t see how that would automatically equate to them doing the _**nasty**_. Not that Tony wouldn’t want to, because he’s not ashamed to admit that he does find Bruce attractive, it’s just no one’s ever asked from a hypothetical point-of-view.

“Amadeus.” Bruce sounds almost exactly like some of Tony’s professors and, oh yeah, Bruce is technically Amadeus’ mentor, isn’t he? “That’s not an appropriate topic of conversation—and no, we aren’t, you know that.”

Amadeus looks about as unconvinced as Loki and Pepper often do, but he just looks heavenwards, in the universal statement of ‘ _ugh grownups just don’t understand_ ’. 

“Come on, Mozart, we’ve got two days till this article’s due. If we can get this done in one, we can totally blow off work and go laser tagging,” Tony interrupts, because he is a **CHOICE** deflector. 

“Ha ha, Mozart, like I haven’t heard **THAT** one before.” Amadeus snorts like the uppity little fifteen-year-old he is, but surprisingly Bruce doesn’t protest at the idea (mostly because Tony’s sure he thinks they won’t make it in time), so he actually does sound faintly intrigued. Even at the ripe old age of eighteen, even Tony can’t resist the call of laser tag, so he’s pretty sure that it’s got universal appeal. 

They do get done in one day, and true to his word, they all go out for laser tag, even Bruce--after the precursory hour of convincing him that the location would be crowd-free and that since it was Thursday and in the middle of the day, it’d be just them, so no rage factors to account for. Tony personally drives them all in his clunker and they actually have a good time, giving themselves codenames based on elements. The woman at the counter to check in guns ends up thinking that Bruce and Tony are Amadeus’ adopted gay parents, even with Hercules like ** _RIGHT_** there and the glaring fact that Tony’s obviously _**EIGHTEEN**_. 

Still, Tony finds it hilarious, and Bruce is flustered trying to explain—Amadeus makes it worse (better in Tony’s opinion) and actively hams it up.

It’s even better when Amadeus gets the high score and makes an impromptu speech during the score announcements to his “Papa Tony” and “Daddy Bruce” and his big brother Herc.


	2. Your Heart Isn't Breaking (And Mine Isn't Making A Sound)

A few days later, Tony gets home early from work and finds his TV in pieces—it’s kind of a feat considering it’s fucking ancient and had to be hit a few times, but god bless Loki Odinson and his resourceful ways--it’s got a broom through it and glass everywhere. 

Loki’s sitting stock still on the couch, and surprisingly when Tony walks in, he finds Natasha of all people talking to him in low tones. 

“You do realize you can’t destroy things and be able to just buy replacements, hoping no one notices, right?” Tony begins with his opening line, instead of asking if Loki’s all right, which he meant to do, he really did, but he feels the need to clarify.

Natasha doesn’t even bother turning his way, just says something else to Loki that Tony can’t make out, before getting up and patting him on the shoulder. Loki jumps a little at the action, and curls in a little on himself more. 

“So, anyone mind filling me in? I mean, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Natasha, and you have been missed but—” Natasha tugs him into the kitchen and owww, her nails kind of hurt. She’s still in a sensible office pantsuit, so Tony figures she probably just stopped in at home to get lunch.

“You may want to talk to your friend--I came in when I heard him break the TV, but he’s pretty much shut down.” Natasha doesn’t sound upset, in fact she sounds almost like she knows exactly what he’s going through. She doesn’t elaborate though and instead nods and quickly exits, shutting the door behind her. 

Loki doesn’t move, just rests his head on his knees and stares straight ahead. Tony draws on years of experience, and sits on the couch as well. He doesn’t move much, just reclines into the couch and lets Loki feel the warmth of his arm brush against him. 

Loki darts a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t move. He doesn’t prompt, doesn’t demand, doesn’t do anything—just waits for Loki to sort through his thoughts.

He’s probably sitting there for minutes, but it feels like hours, until finally Loki lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you recall, when we were little, how often we’d jest that I was adopted--that no matter what, there was no way I could be related to Thor?” It’s a touchy subject: the last time they discussed it, Loki cried at him before downing a bottle of painkillers. He’d been so convinced that no one wanted him, not even Thor—and Thor meant everything to Loki, even more so than being an Odinson. 

“I found out a few weeks ago. I had someone look into my genealogy, someone here. I didn’t trust the officials back in Asgard, I thought they were lying to me—to keep me from seeing the truth.” Loki lets out another static burst of laughter--it sounds hysteric and so, so sad. Tony wraps his arm around Loki finally, tugs him just the littlest bit closer. Loki lets him, continues talking, “And the results came back, and there’s undeniable proof now—I am an Odinson. I’ve always seen pictures of Bestla, but it never occurred to me, until I saw her… at Thor’s engagement party.”

Loki digs his fingernails into his arms, turning to Tony, frantic as if he’s about to say something that will kill him. Tony just holds him closer. Loki struggles initially, muttering a few words in Asgardian, and slams his head into Tony’s sternum, as if fighting everything. Tony lets him.

“Did you know I wanted to be adopted? Because if I was… ” Loki snorts louder, something like a cackle. “… everything would be okay, because then, I wouldn’t be related to Thor after all.” 

Tony’s mind clicks into high gear. He knows, hell, he’s even joked about it in his more maudlin moments, of the nature of Thor and Loki’s relationship. Lined up before him, the friendship that spans over years, he can’t help the hurt he feels, for Loki, for Thor, god damn, for the whole fucking situation. Things are probably going to get worse, and he’s not sure if they’ll ever really get _**BETTER**_. 

Everything makes sense, Loki’s random appearance and desperation to stay with him, how he’d probably seen some sort of weird camaraderie in Steve and Bucky, who’d been kicked out for acting on their feelings, and how he refused to say where Thor was. The most damning thing is that he refuses to venture far from the damn shithole of this apartment. 

“Jesus, you’re fucked.” It comes out instantly instead of what he wants to say, what he should say. And he’s not unseeing of the way that Loki is still holding himself, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Tony’s mouth filter is always kind of shit like that, and that’s as close as he’s getting to saying what he really needs to say. He just tugs Loki closer to him and knows that Loki understands what he means all the same, because as messed up as Loki is, he’s actually so amazingly aware of people it kind of hurts. 

Loki just snorts at the observation and doesn’t move from where he’s curling into Tony further. 

“Thank you, Anthony, I can always count on you for the _**redundant**_.” Tony shrugs, not pointing out that he can feel Loki crying on his shirt even with the amount of control Loki has over his tone. 

“That’s what I’m here for, asinine commentary.” But he’s saying something else entirely, and Loki gets that, he does really. “Was time for me to try and build my own TV anyways—figure I can find enough spare parts at school or something.” 

They call in for food that night, and Tony calls in the next day at the labs too. Loki cries the entire time, and it’s so soft and repressed that only through the shake in his shoulders does Tony know that he hasn’t really stopped. 

Tony never does replace the TV.

-

A few days later, Tony’s copying some data into the computer when Hercules bursts in, all loud laughs and cheers, Amadeus on his shoulders.

“Spring break, you guys!” Amadeus is so excited it almost comes out a squeak, Tony finds it actually kind of cute. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation--thank fuck it’s Friday. 

“We’re going to Athens because our older sister Athena sent us tickets,” Hercules explains, as Bruce walks in from his office and takes them in with cautious amusement. 

“That usually means she wants us to do something, because Athena’s kind of sucky like that—but I’m not about to complain, my little sister Maddy likes going back, and also I get to see Delphyne.” Amadeus gives them a goofy smile; he probably thinks he’s being clever, it’s also weirdly cute. Tony’s really got to get some sleep.

“If Delphyne isn’t still mad at you for last time,” Herc hums, only grinning when Amadeus kicks his legs wildly, having absolutely no effect on his many muscles. 

“When does your plane leave?” Bruce asks, walking over and standing next to Tony. He sounds fond.

“The day after tomorrow, around five AM—we just found out because Athena thinks we’re psychic and just _**KNOW**_ these things. I’m probably going to have to carry Maddy while Herc carries our stuff, which sucks—but then again, free trip back to Athens!” Amadeus sing-songs. “I’ll get you guys fertility charms or something—because you two totally look like you sorely need it.”

“Hey kid, I’ve seen more _**action**_ than you would _**believe**_. I’m Tony Stark, remember?” Because seriously, image to maintain here, even if he has ‘changed’. 

“Ugh, gross—I’ve heard.” Amadeus makes a face at him, and Tony’s glad to see all is right with the world--the gesture isn’t the least bit adorable at all. 

“We actually don’t need help, Tony and I just need to finish inputting this data and we’ll be done for the day—just go ahead and take off and start packing.” Tony looks over because that’s actually really cool of Bruce and kind of badass and irresponsible, and this is **_BRUCE_** of all people. “And instead of fertility charms, can you get us something actually relevant to our interests?”

Amadeus and Hercules pause in unison. Even though they’re not related by blood, they share a lot expressions… it’s kind of eerie.

“Wait, are you sure?” Tony doesn’t miss the way Amadeus glances over at him, not Bruce, and ouch, way to trust, Amadeus. 

“Go and get out of here, you’re distracting me with your cheer and pep,” Tony interjects, because the last thing he wants is a Bruce Banner pity parade. “So help me, Amadeus, if you don’t score—“ The look Herc and Bruce give him is appropriately chastising. “Okay, whatever the fifteen year old equivalent is, with that girl you mentioned, I will forever emasculate you and doubt your manhood. Go out there and get ‘em and all that.” 

Amadeus starts to say something, Tony can see the words forming—instead he winks, cocky little shit, in Tony’s direction. “Of course, _**OLD MAN**_.”  
Tony actually hopes this Delphyne chick shuts Amadeus down and keeps him constantly miserable the entire time. He expresses this by giving Amadeus a very mature one fingered salute.

-

It stands to figure that Bruce is kind of lying about the whole ‘we’ll get this done in one day’ thing, because even though in theory they _**SHOULD**_ be finished, there turns out to be some kind of error in one of their equations, so they end up having to redo the last half of their project completely. Luckily (or actually not), they get locked out because the school is forcibly closed on Spring Break, so they end up having to move their work to Tony’s place.

“Think of this like one **_GIANT_** sleepover over the course of three days, and just ignore that my job is kind of riding on it since I don’t have tenure or, you know, a degree,” he says to both Loki and Bruce, pulling out the couch to make a futon bed and thereby cutting their apartment down by a half in floor space (one of the few perks of that whole Loki getting shot thing was a new couch, you have to look at the positives of the whole affair). 

Loki honestly is probably in no state of mind to consider company, and Tony is shit when it comes to being comforting and dealing with issues. He is however an _**ace**_ at _**distracting**_ , so Loki doesn’t actually fight him on it; if anything, he almost seems grateful—even if he and Bruce are barely acquaintances. He’s repressing like a pro (Tony can tell he’s retreated back into himself) and yet he’s recovered enough to be his usual biting self. He only complains a little when he has to cook for them and constantly weather their conversation and frantic debating and calculating. Tony and Bruce are constantly at each other’s sides, writing and recording, putting in new data as Loki pretty much uses Tony as a pillow and reads.

“I’m sorry if we’re keeping you up,” Bruce says after the first night, and and sounds like he actually means it. Loki actually looks confused at the apology, and Tony nudges him just the littlest bit to emphasize that yes, Bruce was talking to him, and no, he’s not being sarcastic or rude.

“It is quite all right, Doctor. I’m actually used to Anthony keeping me up at all ends of the night with his talking. You’re just lucky your voices harmonize well,” Loki responds back flippantly. Tony’s not stupid though--Loki’s still kind of caught off guard. 

“Just let us know if you need us to keep it down or anything, we can move it to my apartment if we need to,” Bruce offers, and poor guy has no idea that the last thing Loki needs now is to be left alone (hell even if he wanted to, right now as he was, he couldn’t possibly leave Tony’s side—Tony absolutely refuses to let him). 

“Thank you for your most gracious offer, Dr. Banner, but I’m quite all right.” Loki’s smile is still kind of fake-looking. He’s not back to one hundred percent and won’t be for a while, yet Bruce still nods in agreement and goes back to work.

That night Loki starts cooking for them again, and in his usual lack of subtlety gives Bruce the biggest portion of both dinner and dessert. 

Tony’s actually fine with it though, Bruce always looks like he needs to eat more.

-

Days two and three kind of blur together. Pep shows up, and she and Loki cook up a feast for lunch and dinner, and Tony loves them both so much that he totally ignores them when they start to tell all the embarrassing stories they can about Tony and his formative years.

It’s only when they start talking about Tony’s awkward crush on a very charming, very flirtatious Charles Xavier during boarding school does he put his foot down, because it is honestly all the things Tony never does, usually, and vows never to do again. Not that Bruce notices how actually mortifying it all is: he’s stuck on the fact that Tony and one of the greatest minds in the scientific community used to fool around in coat closets and in restricted sections of the library, because they were _**THOSE**_ kinds of science nerds in high school. 

“You’re not talking about Charles Xavier, as in Professor X? The forefront expert on genetics?” Bruce looks almost mystified, and Tony and Loki both burst into laughter at the naked shock on his face. 

“We simply _**MUST**_ tell him everything,” Loki practically trills in excitement, because if there’s something they’ve inherently learned, it’s how to gossip like the meanest school girls. Pepper sighs and goes to bring out the champagne she brought for the occasion.

“Be nice, you two.” She says it mostly out of habit, and they can tell from the curve of her lips she knows it’s kind of moot.

“Ms.Potts, I’m afraid you’re talking to the two worst sorts that this dear country has ever _**seen**_ ,” Loki says with mock severity, as Tony launches into very sordid tales about his pubescent years, with a few minor edits. Because Tony and Loki are good little fuck-ups and kind of relish the shock they can bring in, sometimes. Besides, it’s all worth it for the expressions Bruce makes.

-

A few days later, the report is sent in, and Tony, kind of high on its completion, sleep deprivation, and just in general enjoying himself, makes the mistake of suggesting they eat nearby in celebration.

Of course, just when everything’s going great—the shit hits the fan.

They’re walking to a small local café, just Loki, Bruce, and him because Pepper had class, and they even have a (mostly) normal conversation with Wilson when he walks past (he leaves them with a happy-go-lucky slap on the ass, and Tony just kind of goes with it because he’s starting to see that’s just how the guy expresses affection or something). 

Loki’s discussing some book with Bruce, and it’s actually kind of nice to see Loki hold a conversation with someone that doesn’t end in violence or him cutting them down with his pointy, pointy words.

The sun’s shining, people are walking around not actively trying to mug them, and Tony’s primed and ready to drink the hell out of scotch in celebration when it all goes to hell.

“Brother!” comes the exclamation, and Tony sees Loki freeze up completely mid-sentence. Tony doesn’t have to turn around to know already, just **_KNOWS_** that behind him, Thor Odinson is pushing and, more than likely, throwing random pedestrians just to throw **himself** their way. 

Bruce quickly looks behind him, eyes wide.

Well fuck.

Tony tries to consider the possibility of just grabbing Loki and Bruce then bolting, because, right now? Not a good time, especially in public, and especially considering it was barely a week ago that Loki had his little episode. 

Seriously, what is with the _**TIMING**_ in Tony’s life? It’s just getting ridiculous.

Thor’s got about 200 pounds on him, so tackling him to the ground in a desperate attempt to distract him while Loki hides probably isn’t a good idea—not that he’s even sure Loki wants to run (but instinctively he can tell that Loki confronting Thor _**NOW**_ of all times probably isn’t going to do wonders to his psyche). 

Loki has yet to move; he’s steeled himself up, though. And damn, he looks fucking **fierce** , all fire and repressed issues, finding the perfect target to lash out at. Tony moves in time to avoiding getting shoved into a wall as Thor rushes forward--so much for a ‘hi’, considering he hasn’t seen the guy in a year. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” comes Thor’s signature thunderous voice, yet strangely reverent, like this is some miracle, and Tony has to admit he can’t fault the guy because, knowing him, he must’ve been turning Asgard upside down looking for Loki. Still, for someone who’s engaged, Thor is sending some really fucking mixed signals: despite all the cold fury in Loki’s mean, mean gaze, he’s got his hands in Loki’s (Tony’s) sweater and is pulling him close. His grip is tight, almost like if he lets go, he knows Loki will bolt and he’ll lose him again. Tony’s not blind to the fact that Thor looks like he’s playing the lost lover role to a T. 

And that observation aside, it kind of makes Tony want to kick himself for not at least mentioning to Thor that his brother wasn’t, you know, dead. Not that…. he really could, since Tony lost his old cell and he hasn’t been doing much besides… making a living.

“Mind explaining what’s going on?” Bruce asks to the side, completely out of his element and, oh shit, that reminds Tony, he’s got a few seconds before Loki’s instincts kick in and there will no doubt either be a screaming match or actual honest-to-dicks fist fight. 

“One sec, Bruce.” He winks and salutes before he goes back into gear and begins the perilous task of redirecting them to somewhere less public.

Not that it matters: Loki vetoes all Tony’s future negotiating attempts by kicking Thor hard in the shin and running for the apartment, Thor at his heels a few seconds later.

“Or they can do that instead.” Tony sighs because, his friends, what the fuck. “Come on Bruce, we better go stop them--if we don’t, Thor will kick my door down, and Loki will throw himself off the fire escape just to spite him.”

-

Tony gets there before any of that happens. They’re in the apartment, and Loki’s got the couch between him and Thor—he’s not saying anything, just standing perfectly still, but Tony can see his hands shaking.

“Thor, you need to leave. I’m not going back to Asgard.” It comes out clipped and controlled, contrasting easily with the panic in his eyes. 

“I refuse--not till I get the answers I’m owed as to what you’re even doing here.” And there’s Thor’s temper, quick to come out like lightning. He sounds sad though, at a loss as to why his brother would just up and disappear. “Loki, you ran away in the middle of my engagement party—and you didn’t give us so much as a word as to where you were. Do you even understand what you’ve done? Mother and Father are worried sick—Mother is practically bed-ridden—”

“And that justifies you putting up TV announcements like I’m some kind of lost pet that needs to be returned home?” Loki spits, although it’s ruined by the fact he looks so desperately lost. Wait, is that why Loki threw a broom through Tony’s TV?

“We were desperate, can you not _**comprehend**_ the chaos you’ve caused by leaving? You are still part of our family, you are the second son of the House of Odin.” Thor steps closer to the couch, Loki’s eyes narrow, and yup, Tony needs to lay some ground rules now.

“Not to aggravate matters further, but can you take it down a few? I usually don’t care much about the property damage that you two cause, but now I’m actively footing the bill so it’d be kind of nice if you could look into the inevitable fight—be it of the screaming or punching variety—and factor that in.” Because Tony knows Thor and Loki get like this, that they lose everything but each other at times, and him intervening will do nothing. 

“Not now, Anthony.” Loki won’t look away from Thor, his arms moving up in no doubt a fighting stance. Thor takes the challenge as it is and moves, ignoring Tony’s warning completely and shoving his couch out of the way.

“How’s the gunshot wound looking, Loki? I mean, I’m sure it’s mending, but you didn’t actually go to a hospital, and as much as I respect Bruce right here, I’m still wondering why we didn’t get someone professional to look at it.” Tony is a rat bastard when he needs to be; also he doesn’t want Loki ripping out his stitches or destroying their new couch. 

“You were **SHOT**? By whom? Who would **DARE** attack you?” Thor demands, sidestepping the couch and rounding on Loki--shit, Tony almost feels for those muggers once Thor finds them. “Brother, why did you not say—”

“I was shot in the shoulder, Thor, and don’t bother getting your revenge. I disabled and concussed the instigators.” Loki makes sure to shoot Tony a dirty glare over Thor’s shoulder. “It’s none of your concern, I’m fine now.”

“Your well-being **IS** my concern, Loki.” Thor almost sounds desperate, like it’s hurting him physically that Loki is acting this way, shutting him down and cutting him out. “I threw off my engagement for **YOU**.” 

Welp, that sounds like a good enough segue for Tony to politely leave, and judging from the way Thor and Loki are angled away from him, completely wrapped up in each other, his gut’s right on this one. 

Tony closes the door behind him and faces the very confused (and damn that’s actually really adorable on Bruce, Tony needs to start making a mental catalogue of these expressions or something) Bruce Banner behind him.

“So, I’m probably going to not be allowed in until tomorrow—mind adopting me temporarily, Bruce? I’m an orphan and this is a dangerous neighborhood—aristocrats are shoving people into walls.”

Bruce shakes his head skeptically and turns away, gesturing at his apartment. “Come on, we’ll order in something—”

“Awesome, this is why you’re my favorite. Mind if it’s shawarma?” Tony’s not saying that he’s feeling better about leaving Loki and Thor alone in his apartment, but he’s going to get to see the inside of Bruce’s place, so he figures it’s a good trade-off. Plus, it’s kind of, you know, nice to be alone with Bruce.

He really wasn’t kidding about the doctor actually being his favorite.

-

“I should probably explain about the big **_incestuous_** elephant in my apartment, shouldn’t I?” Tony asks, sitting in Bruce’s very Spartan and almost empty apartment, which literally consists of a couch, a coffee table, and a bookshelf. (Bruce’s bedroom is off limits for Tony’s self-led and brief house tour, and the kitchen looks like it’s maintained only for decoration purposes. The bathroom is clean to the point of Tony wondering if it is also for decoration.) 

Next to him on the couch, closing his takeout box, Bruce sighs. 

“That’s not exactly how I’d word it—”

“But that’s what it is, so there’s no point in sugar-coating it.” Tony finishes wadding up the wrapper in his hands and tosses it into his own takeout box all the way at the end of the coffee table (score, of course, his aim is always great). “They’ve always been like that—as if they’re literally the only people that matter. No matter what happened, they were always together—this is only the second time they’ve been apart for so long.”

It kind of sucks that the only way to get Bruce interested in Tony’s life seems to be through Thor and Loki and their melodramatic love story, but such is his life, apparently. Still, Bruce is attempting to get answers about people in Tony’s life from Tony, so hey, that counts as interest in his affairs, right? 

“Did the first time end in gunshot wounds and him crashing at your place?” Bruce prompts, and Tony reaches for his nearly empty cup of coke and obnoxiously slurps from the straw for a second.

“Loki ended up in the hospital getting a bottle of valium pumped from his stomach, and Thor crashed my car and gave me two black eyes and a broken arm?” Not exactly the high of Tony and Thor’s friendship, but it’s in the past—it won’t help them any to dwell on it. “Thor and Loki are actually pretty terrible people, just like I’m a pretty terrible person, but they’ve at least got each other. They’re… complicated. They’re kind of like, two halves of a whole? A really fucked up whole, but hell if it’s any better when they’re apart. I know that seems like a cop-out, Doc, but really, that’s just the best way to put it.”

And that’s it, isn’t it? Tony can’t explain years of upbringing, years of pretty much being their plus one whenever they were in town, that despite Loki’s loneliness and Thor’s attitude, they need each other. That no matter what one does, the other has to be around. That instead of some kind of love song bullshit of love making it all better, Thor and Loki’s love is dangerous, intoxicating, and honestly, terrifying. 

“So, they’ve always been like that?” Bruce glances over Tony’s shoulder to the door, and Tony follows his gaze. “Since as long as you’ve known them?”

“The first time we met, Thor pushed me off a swing set because Loki tried to steal one of my toys from me, and I pushed him in the sandbox—this was when we were five,” Tony answers with a half-shrug. “I could never see them being apart, so I’m not exactly surprised--just kind of wish it would’ve been less dramatic, but that’s the Odinsons, go big or go home kind of drama that I swear to Christ they seem to just exude.” 

Bruce takes the whole speech pretty well--he isn’t actively backing away in horror or giving him a concerned and pointed cue to interrupt, so Tony’s taking it as a sign that he is, anyway. What Bruce says instead catches Tony completely off guard.

“That’s romantic, that they’ve been like that even with all they’ve been through.” Bruce doesn’t sound envious or disgusted, just observational, objective. It kind of makes Tony’s heart beat a little faster when he glances over. The look on Bruce’s face is wistful.

“When I was little, I used to get jealous a lot—that and frustrated, because hanging out with those two is like the most uncomfortable threesome, but without sex, and you’re just being ignored constantly,” Tony muses, eager to break the ice and get Bruce to stop looking so… sad. “Course, then I met Rhodey and Pep, and I guess I kind of got it, that whole, _you need somebody who understands you_ afterschool special deal.” Tony puts down his cup and reclines back into Bruce’s couch. “Not that it matters now--Rhodey’s so pissed off at me, he’s shut me out completely. What good is that person if they’re so mad at you, they won’t even talk to you? Love Pep and always will, but life without Rhodey isn’t exactly fun.”

“Rhodey?” Bruce repeats, curious—and don’t judge him, something about Bruce prompting him for more on the people in his life (well the _OTHER_ people who aren’t Loki and Thor) makes him kind of… really happy. Like, as in revelation-making happy. Game changer-happy. In fact, he hasn’t felt this kind of happy just talking with someone--who wasn’t Pepper or Rhodey or even Loki--in forever. This even tops “your mutations make me kind of hot” Charles Xavier happy.

… Oh.

OH.

Tony Stark has, somehow along the line, fallen in love with his neighbor, who he incidentally works for, and who has a few anger issues. And is such a good, genuine, honest person who is so afraid of himself and what he is capable of that he actually works at a clinic tending to people as some sort of retribution. Tony likes him so much, he’s kind of neglected the co-eds, partying with Hercules and the frat boys, and being a general cad, in exchange for hard work, supporting his friend (who might as well be family), and being so responsible overall with deadlines and submissions, he feels a little of himself straighten in shock.

“Tony?” Bruce furrows his brows, and oh god, Tony is so, so in love that while he finds the action adorable, he wants to do something to get that look of concern off his face. He really, really likes it when Bruce smiles.

“Rhodey’s… important?” It comes out as a question, if only because Tony feels completely gobsmacked, as if everything is realigning in his head. He wants to say something else, really he does, but he can’t remember it. 

Wow, he has not been this ass over head in love with someone in a really, really long time. 

“Yes, but why?” Tony is so fucked when all he can come up with is a fervent hope that the question is because Bruce is maybe jealous or maybe interested in him, and what is _HAPPENING_ with his thought process here? “Is he your—”

“Partner. He’s the best guy you could ever know, you’d love him, Bruce—well, I think you would. Actually, I _**know**_ you would.” Love or not, Tony can still talk a mile-a-minute about Rhodey, because Rhodey is and will always be one of his best friends, and if he were here he’d have probably helped Tony realize how _SERIOUSLY_ deep he’s gotten himself in. “I kind of may have forgotten to tell him and Pepper when I got kicked out. Pepper forgave me, but Rhodey didn’t—which actually sucks because he’s kind of like my better half at times--less times than usual, but there are times.” 

Tony Stark believes in himself, and he’s far from humble, but let it not be said he doesn’t know when he needs people, specifically acknowledging that Rhodey literally stops him from killing himself and actually betters him as a person. Rhodey’s amazing on a lot of accounts, and man, Tony is such a dick, why are they friends?

“I’ve met worse people than you, if that counts for anything… ” Bruce offers, wry and self-deprecating, but so eager to make Tony feel better that it actually kind of works. “You’ve actually adapted pretty well for someone who I was told has his own private airline.”

“It’s only really three jets, but we do so love to embellish,” Tony remarks, smirking, and waggling his brows. Bruce can’t help but return the smile. and Tony feels so elated. “And the only reason I’ve made it this far, really, is just a testament to how much I hate my father and his damn experiment to see if I’d sink or swim. A big part of that is also, well, you.” 

Bruce straightens, unsure how to process the remark. After a minute, he gives a strained laugh.

“Not a very funny joke,” he offers after a minute, giving Tony a strained smile. Tony frowns.

“Wasn’t a joke, I mean it—thanks to you, I’ve got a job that I like. You helped sew up my friend when he got shot, muggers still walk in fear around this area and therefore don’t harass me, and working for you has been the most fun I’ve had in… a while.” He leans in close because Bruce needs to see how serious he is, how much he means this. “Sure, I made it, yeah, but I do owe a lot to you. You’re my friend, Bruce, and if anything good came from this mess, it’s that I got to meet you.” 

It’s not exactly what Tony wants to say, yet he knows the emotions are all there.

Bruce goes silent, breaks eye contact immediately, and straightens. Tony isn’t really sure what to expect, he’s so out of his depth here, and all he does is keep his eyes locked onto Bruce’s profile. Something turns in his stomach. 

Bruce gets up from the couch and walks to the door. Tony can only stare as he reaches for the knob and says in a shaky, desperate voice, “I’m sorry, but you need to leave. Right now.” 

… That could’ve gone a lot better.

-

Tony spends the rest of the night wondering what the fuck happened while pacing outside where Loki’s locked him out of his apartment, until Hawkeye bounds up the steps at three in the morning, sees him, and drags him back to his and Natasha’s. 

Clint doesn’t ask what happened, but even though the guy’s obviously just got off his shift, he keeps Tony company and plays darts with him for an hour, and even lets Tony crash on their couch, no questions asked, when fatigue hits him.

Tony isn’t able to sleep a wink that night, only able to replay the last few minutes of his conversation with Bruce over and over.

-

Loki and Thor are sitting on the fire escape when Tony finally returns to his house later in the day—Tony would’ve given them longer to work their issues out, but he’s tired, confused, and feeling more than little rejected so, damn it, he’s going home. All his furniture is seemingly in one piece and there’s even food on the table: it’s so picture perfect and normal, Tony half wonders if he’s asleep, and this is actually a nightmare.

“I can’t tell if this is reality or I’m lying knocked out on someone’s couch,” Tony says, instead of “oh hey, thank god you guys are okay” or “does this mean you worked everything out?” or even “thank you for sparing my stuff from your wrath and issues”. 

Loki looks up from where he’s resting his head on Thor’s shoulder and takes in his appearance, lips tightening.

“What happened to you--I thought you left with Banner?” It actually sounds somewhat like concern, which means Tony must look like shit or this really is a nightmare--either way, Tony just sits on the floor next to the fire escape and scratches his nose.

“I could ask the same—I’m kind of worried that Thor’s secretly dead, and you stuffed him while I was out.” Thor turns and raises an expansive eyebrow; there went that hypothesis. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex on my fire escape. That’s just gross—I use that fire escape, to escape from _you_ , so the fact you’d mark it is just mean.”

“Don’t be uncouth.” Loki picks at some microscopic dirt from beneath his nail beds before adding, “We had a rousing round on your bed, followed by very enthusiastic fellatio on the futon couch.” 

Thor wraps an arm around his brother’s waist as if to back up his story, and they both don’t look the least apologetic at all. Why are they his friends, again? 

“Animals, all of you.” Tony actually means ‘congratulations’ and to ask if that means Thor will be moving in as well, or what the hell is going to happen next, but instead he just leans against the wall a little and lets out a loud breath. “I think I just blew it with Banner.”

“How? The man is in adoration of you—” Tony’s kind of glad he’s staring straight ahead and not at them, as he can hear Thor kissing down Loki’s neck, biting too, and at one time he’d thought the idea would be hot, but now he’s just tired and annoyed. “Brother, please. This man and Tony have been doing this dance around each other for ages--Ms. Potts and I have been at our wit’s end.” 

Thor is ignoring him, if the tinny little moan Loki lets out is anything to go by, and Tony ignores Thor to peer at Loki’s face for a moment and keep his gaze there. 

“What are you even talking about? Bruce doesn’t like me.” 

“How can you not see that he’s in love with you, Tony? How you’ve _NEVER_ been able to see it is beyond me. You’re usually so adept at realizing this sort of thing.”

“Loki, if this is a joke—“

“Your affairs are so trivial they aren’t worth the added effort, don’t flatter yourself, Stark.” Loki finishes flawlessly, because the asshole always has to have the last word, “As much I adore causing chaos, why would I make light of the man who saved me from dying in this god-forsaken shit hole?”  
“You’re welcome for me getting that man and Barton,” Tony snorts, since Loki is still such an ungrateful snot it’s sobering. “Hypothetically, even if Bruce had feelings for me—why would he kick me out of his apartment after what could’ve been seen as a date—”

“You’ll have to ask Banner that, I’m hardly the example for healthy relationship material,” Loki reminds him point-blank, as his half-brother bites a hickey into his neck.

… He did have a very good point.

-

Tony Stark is having a lot harder time getting his man than he usually does. Especially given that Bruce is on some kind of Tony Stark-quarantine and completely refuses to answer the door when he comes knocking. He’s gone full-recluse: not even their neighbors or anyone downstairs sees or hears from him. The only reason they know he’s alive is only from Tony cornering the postman and finding that Bruce is still getting his mail.

Hell, Tony even tries to visit the clinic that Bruce volunteers at several times, only to be pushed away at the door by some mean-looking orderlies, or at the very least, politely shooed away by an exhausted-looking, if nice, nurse. 

At least Tony knows Bruce can’t avoid him at work, because awkward feelings or not, Bruce is still a professional and has a do-or-die work ethic that Tony can happily exploit. Even though the rest of spring break passes slowly to the point of driving Tony near insanity (could be that, or the fact that Thor and Loki have to have sex _CONSTANTLY_ or make out or just be gross in his cramped apartment, and he’s got nothing to distract himself as well. Not that they’ve told Tony anything about what happened or how they made up, but Tony’s used to being out of the loop with them). 

“How could you **NOT** notice?” Steve Rogers asks when it’s finally time, walking with him to the university since Steve goes to the art college, and Tony’s ditching class so he can corner Bruce. “I’ve never been able to even **HAVE** a conversation with Dr. Banner until you came along.” 

His apartment complex is full of crazies and gossip hounds: somehow the whole story has floated around that Tony was rejected by the good doctor. (Tony would suspect Loki, only Loki and Thor haven’t left **_HIS BED_** since Tony and the night of the fire escape and maybe-broken hearts. Tony’s being a little melodramatic, which he thinks he’s allowed to be after all this time.) And if there’s one thing Tony Stark can’t stand, it’s pity, and even though everyone means well, if he sees one more sad look or hear one more condolence, he’s going to rewire everyone’s stolen cable so that no one can watch but him, and he doesn’t even _HAVE_ a TV. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, Rogers, but maybe it’s that no one _TRIED_ to approach him?” Tony says with even more bite than he means to. Steve just lets it go like the nice guy he is and shrugs.

“You don’t think we did? Everyone’s tried to reach out to him at some point in time. The old tenant who used to live in your place, Peter Parker, even went so far to try and corner him here at school, but the minute he turned around, Bruce was gone and wouldn’t answer anyone’s knocks.” Steve adjusts his grip on his messenger bag as they near the center square of campus, adding, “I’ll talk to you later, Tony-- and tell Loki that Bucky wants to meet Thor, we heard he’s in the area.”

And with that, looking all nice and harmless and the model student, Steve Rogers suddenly sprints off as if on fire.

Which, all right then… Tony can kind of see why Bruce would distance himself from these people, they’re nosy as fuck. Though to be fair, he considers, he’s far nosier than all of the tenants **combined**.

Tony turns, getting ready to dig out his key card ID, when he sees Bruce walking from the faculty building to the parking garage, in the distance.

God bless Steve Rogers. 

Tony makes a mad dash as quick as he can. The campus is only sparsely populated with people since it’s so god-forsaken early, and he’s got the element of surprise on his side. He almost trips over a bush and kind of catapults himself over a handicap railing, yet he’s able to slam himself against the driver’s side of Bruce’s car just as the man is about to turn around.

“Going somewhere?” If he wasn’t so winded, it’d probably have been a better moment--Tony’s just wondering what the hell happened to his stamina. After this, he is hitting the fucking gym. 

Bruce is in the worst shape Tony’s ever seen, his hair frazzled, clothes wrinkled and missing a few buttons, and his glasses are askew, very conveniently helping to mask the rest of his expression.

“You need to leave me alone for a few days. I already talked to a colleague, and you’ll be working for the College of Engineering. They’re very eager to have you on board.” Bruce doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t even face him when he speaks, just talks, slow and controlled like he’ can change Tony’s mind. “I’m sorry, Tony, but—”

“Nope.” Tony derails that train of thought as quickly as he can, rising from the side of the car and, even though Bruce is taller than him, making sure to maintain eye contact. “Sorry, Banner, I’m not going to agree to that at all. You can’t just up and _FIRE_ me after you kicked me out of your apartment without an explanation at all.”

“I don’t like this either, but it has to be done.” 

And no, Tony is _NOT_ letting Bruce push him away, for no reason at all, especially with that phrase as his prime motivation.

“No it doesn’t. You didn’t even tell me _**WHY**_ you’re doing all this. I know it’s not that you feel a sudden and intense hatred for me, and you can’t possibly be being blackmailed or, if my father gave enough of a shit, actually be coerced into firing me—so what is it? You can’t just cut me out of your life for no reason at all.” And it’s weird, but Tony feels angry, and desperate, and all these other really, really intense emotions he hasn’t felt since his Dad kicked him out on his happy ass.

“You’re a liability.” Bruce doesn’t have to yell, his voice is so raw and conflicted that it cuts through Tony’s stream of thought and ranting with barely any effort at all. He freezes instantly, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he sees the beginning of Bruce Banner’s highly prophesized breakdown.

Bruce doesn’t so much sag in on himself as does the opposite--he straightens, he gets fierce, and he holds himself like a fighter. Bruce can say what he wants about the Hulk, but Tony can really only see positives here, because Bruce is holding himself the way that Tony’s always pictured him.

“You can’t be near me, Tony, that’s the point. You’re getting too close to me and the other guy—” Bruce actually looks caught, like he can’t believe he’s saying this to TONY of all people, like it hurts him physically to remind Tony what he is, “—he can tell. You need to stay away now, if you don’t—”  
“Does he like me?” Tony interrupts, leaning in closer into Bruce’s personal space. “Does ‘the Hulk’ like me?”  
Bruce stops mid-tirade and pauses to take a breath, like he can’t handle Tony and his lack of self-preservation and propensity for dumbass questions.  
“What?”  
“Does ‘the other guy’ like me? Is he okay with the fact that I’d be in your life?” Tony repeats, all focus on Bruce and nothing else--hell, a bomb could go off in the parking garage and he’d barely be able to tell. “Because he’s a part of you, isn’t he? And if you like me, then he’ll have to like me.”

“It doesn’t work that way, I don’t get to control it. It doesn’t matter if he likes you or not, he’s unstable, unpredictable, and he’s hurt people. People I loved and cared about, and I’m not going to let someone ELSE end up on his victims list.” Bruce wrings his hands. “Why can’t you understand that this is to protect you?”

There’s a beat of silence, with the roar of an engine somewhere far off. Tony doesn’t notice, all he does is step right into Bruce’s personal bubble, and glares up at him.

“I’m eighteen years old. When I was five, I was kidnapped by some actually very friendly people who needed money for their son’s operation. When I was twelve, I was almost kidnapped by some very _NOT_ friendly people who wanted to siphon my family’s bank account for thrills. I don’t know how else to remind you, yet again, that I can fucking take care of myself. I’ve been doing it this entire time, and I’ll keep doing it.” Because Tony hates the very notion that Bruce needs to protect Tony from himself, like Bruce’s ‘other half’ is something that has to be hidden away, like he has to keep himself away like some kind of leper because of his temper. “I don’t know what happened to make you have ‘the other guy’, and I don’t really know what happened to other people because of the Hulk, and they’re probably better people than me, but I’m not going to leave. It’s not going to change the fact that the Hulk is a part of you, and you keeping yourself away from me and other people just because of it is fucking nuts. Sure, he scared the shit out of me last time, but he also saved me from muggers and their pointy, pointy knives. I kind of wish the Hulk had been around when my best friend got his shoulder punctured by someone looking to make a few bucks off of him—you don’t get it, Bruce, I’m in here for the long haul. I’ve long accepted the Hulk, even if you haven’t. Because I know he’s only _ONE_ part of you, and even if somewhere down the line or in the immediate future you wanted to get rid of the Hulk, I’d drive you to therapy and hold your hand, but only if that’s what you wanted.”

The complete look of shock on Bruce’s face isn’t exactly… funny as it is, you know, heartbreaking, but Tony’s going for the big prize here, so he’s trying not to focus on it as he goes in for the big finish.

“What I’m trying to say is, I kind of maybe fell in love with you and even with all your faults, which are actually piddly compared to some of the choice assholes I know— I mean, have you **MET** Loki Odinson—and I know you’re not perfect, but no one’s fucking perfect, and the only reason I’ve been sober and not boning coeds is because I’ve been wrapped up in work and you. Okay, not the **ONLY** reason, but you’re like seventy-five to eighty-five percent.” Tony tries to cut down on his rambling, which is kind of hard considering he’s about to launch into a rousing speech on percentages and rounding numbers, but he kind of just stops when he sees the way Bruce is staring at him. 

“You’re in love with me?” Bruce gapes at him, almost uncomprehendingly. 

Tony is so truly, stupidly in love that he only mouths off a little. “If you want to get technical, I kind of love the Hulk too?” 

Bruce gives a kind of choked off sob that could be a laugh, but Tony’s not sure, since he’s too busy taking advantage of the heat of the moment and wrapping an arm around Bruce’s neck and kissing him like he’s been wanting to for weeks.

Bruce may make some kind of noise, like “hey, people” or “I’m your boss” or something like that at first, but he kisses back and harder than Tony expects, and he is so changing Bruce’s ringtone to _“Hot for Teacher”_.

-

Finally getting to date Bruce Banner is actually pretty fucking awesome. Even if Amadeus and Hercules are annoyingly smug, and Amadeus always greets the room whenever he enters, eyes closed, with a very solemn: “Are you guys doing it on the table or can I come in?” 

Their whole apartment floor is so self-satisfied and relieved, and even if Thor and Loki are being gross newlyweds in his bed/apartment, it’s totally okay because now Tony can go to Bruce’s place and be gross newlyweds with him.

The best part, though?

The best part is when he’s lounging on Bruce’s couch as Bruce looks over papers and tuts under his breath as he corrects Amadeus’ thesis, and someone knocks on the door in a panic.

He and Bruce startle, and Tony totally gets to be the man and shoves Bruce over with as much care and attention as he can, so he can answer the door and defend his beloved rage doctor.

What’s he’s not expecting is Rhodey still in fucking uniform, staring at him before grabbing him and hugging him as tight as he can. Then Rhodey backs up and punches him in the face, because that is how their friendship kind of works.

“Next time you get kicked out and disappear off the face of the earth—try to remember some of us were deployed, and it’s not a great way to come home and have a heart attack when someone calls the base and tells me you’re bleeding out on your couch,” Rhodey says, pissed and relieved, helping him up like the nice guy he is. “What the hell, Tony, I heard from your highness that—”

“You do remember Loki’s a liar, right? The whole point of the damn ‘your highness’ nickname was that he lied to you when you first met and told you he was a prince.” What Tony means to say is “he knew it was the only way to get you to come down here” and “I’m sorry” and even “so I’ve been kind of really missing you”.

Instead of following up with any of these things, however, he just laughs and reaches over to hug Rhodey harder. Behind him, he can hear Bruce shuffling forward to see what just happened at his doorstep.

“What the hell has happened to you, Stark?” Rhodey sighs, but it’s fond, and maybe Rhodey’s kind of happy to be with him too, because Rhodey totally loves Tony, and Tony knows it, and he must’ve been going crazy with worry even if he won’t _SAY_ it. 

“Hey, want to meet my new boo?” Tony prompts, instead of saying, “I’m fine” and “actually the greatest I’ve ever felt” or even “so I met someone life changing who saved me from muggers with his rage issues”. 

The best part out of all this is introducing Rhodey and the rest of his old life to Bruce and his new one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, there's a lot of this story that was edited out (mostly about Bucky/Steve and Thor/Loki sadly) since I wrote this story within a week and had to get rid of loose ends. I'd like to thank post-graduation issues from my local university and the Sims 2/Silver Chaos for both crashing on me constantly and leaving me with nothing but Fun.'s discography and MS word. Honestly I just wanted to write crazy-despot aristocrats providing some kind of Greek Chorus for Tony Stark and his life choices (read Tony does stuff, Loki is an ass and insane and comments on it). 
> 
> Final disclaimer in that, I'm trying out a new style, so this isn't usually the norm for me. I guess this is the closest attempt I have to a hipster AU without actually being a hipster AU. Thanks for reading. Comments and Criticisms are always appreciated.


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